Honorable Enemy
by Pilgrim
Summary: A badly wounded Akane sinks into despair and catatonia, and nothing her friends do seems to help. Well, if her friends can't help, maybe an enemy can.


A badly wounded Akane sinks into despair and catatonia, and nothing her friends do seems to help.  Well, if her friends can't help, maybe an enemy can. 

****

Honorable Enemy

by Dan Stickney

*****

Nabiki looked down at the table, and sighed.

The normally calm, cool, and collected Tendo sister was at the end of her rope, barely two months after the disaster in the forest of Ryugenzawa.  Four young martial artists had gone on a quest to quell the mighty Orochi and save the magic forest.  They'd faced the dragon, and by all accounts they'd won, but the price had been far too high.  Her sister's fiancé Ranma, their friend Ryoga, and some local kid that Nabiki had never heard of before had all died.  The only survivors had been her younger sister Akane and the local kid's grandfather, and Akane's survival had been...incomplete.  Her wounds had been miraculously healed by the magic waters of the forest, but no magic could ever restore what her younger sister had lost.

Akane hadn't spoken since.  If anything, it was worse than when their mother died.  Back then, Akane had only stopped speaking for a month.  Now, she was virtually catatonic, eating little, saying nothing, waiting to die.  Nothing her family and friends had done seemed to help.  Even Nabiki, with all of her resources, was at her wit's end.  All Nabiki could do was sit here and hope desperately that somebody, somehow, would find a way to get through to her.   

*****

It is a very difficult thing to be only 16 years old and know that your life is over.  

The dark-haired girl lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling, ignoring the lunch that her oldest sister had left on the nightstand beside her; just as she had ignored the breakfast left there earlier, and the dinner the night before.  Dead people don't eat, after all.  So the girl just lay there, and strove to make her mind as blank as possible.  For that was the best way she knew to make the hurting go away.

It hurt to realize that her life was over.  Everything she had ever hoped for was impossible now.  Her true love was gone.  Her future was gone.  All of her plans, hopes, and dreams – just gone.  It especially hurt to remember that barely a month and a half ago she'd been immortal.  Well, not truly immortal, not in the literal sense of the word.  No, she'd only been immortal in the way only teenagers seem to be.  After all, no 16 year old truly believes she can die.  Even this girl, who'd lost her own mother in childhood, had firmly believed that somehow she'd always survive, always come out on top.  

Too bad inexorable fate knew different.

Maybe the worst part was it had happened at her peak, struck down in the very moment of her triumph.  For she'd never felt more alive as she and her fiancé and friends, martial artists all, danced upon the razor's edge of death battling the mighty Orochi.  But then the dragon's jaws had closed, and her life had ended.  

It was just her bad luck that she'd survived the experience.

So now she lived this half-life in bed.  Where nothing ever happened, and nothing ever changed.  And nothing ever would, ever again. 

Today, however, was going to be different.  A tall young woman wearing a murderous expression and a bandolier of spatulas stormed through the front door growling.   She stomped right past the dark-haired girl's eldest sister, ignoring the tattered remains of Kasumi's smile.  The middle sister, Nabiki, looked up startled from where she slumped in the family room before a sudden flash of insight led her to leap to her feet.  However, she didn't pursue the intruder.  Instead, she leaped at her older sister, pinning her to the wall to prevent her from following as well.  Kasumi struggled briefly before she sagged to her knees, surrendering to her sister and her tears.

The dark haired girl looked but did not change expression when the tall young woman yanked open the shoji and stormed into the room.  "How DARE you throw away Ran-Chan's sacrifice like this, Akane!  Are you going to spend the rest of your life hiding in your room?"

Akane returned her gaze to the ceiling tiles.  As a matter of fact, this wasn't her room.  Even the small comfort of her own room had been denied to her, cut off forever by a simple flight of stairs.   It was just another thing that would hurt if she allowed herself to feel anything.

The tall young woman strode over to the bed and grabbed Akane's chin, torquing the prone girl's neck painfully so she could stare into her eyes.  "Don't you dare ignore me, either!  I don't care what happened to you, you have no right to act this way!" 

Distant fire seemed to explode in Akane's mind, but she ignored it.  Feelings were for the living.  Still, she couldn't help but respond.  "What do you care about me, Ukyo?"

Ukyo slapped her, hard.  "God damn you!  You cost me everything!  He threw his life away to save yours, AND YOU'RE NOT WORTHY OF HIM!"   

A familiar, but long absent, feeling began coursing through Akane:  Anger.  "Ukyo, are you blind?  I'm not worthy of anyone any more!"

"Any more?"  The taller girl sneered.  "You were never worthy of him in the first place, coward."

Akane's anger began to break through her carefully cultivated indifference.  "What did you say?"

 "What, have you gone deaf, too?  I said you were never worthy of him in the first place, you sniveling, cowardly little brat.  Little Miss 'poor poor pitiful me' Akane, who never got over losing her mommy.  The psychological cripple.  You should be grateful now that your outside matches your insides!" Akane flinched at every sentence, like it was a physical blow, but Ukyo didn't seem to care, or even notice.  Instead, she went right on with her ranting.  "What about me?  He died for you, and now my honor will never be redeemed.  I loved him, but he never loved me back!  He wasted his love on you instead!     And you, you...you treated that love like it was dirt!  How dare you!  How dare you take what was rightfully mine and treat it like dirt!"

Out in the hallway, Kasumi struggled to break away from Nabiki's grasp, but Nabiki wouldn't let go.  "Oneechan, no!"  She whispered desperately.  "Nothing else has pulled her out of it!"

"Wasted..."  Akane began to tremble; bewildered by this assault from someone she'd thought a friend.  Other suppressed emotions were threatening to breach the wall that had been weakened by her anger.  "But... I'm..."

Ukyo cut her off.  "Oh, what the hell do you want, sympathy?  You got what you deserved.  At least this way you won't lead anyone else to their death by pretending to be a real martial artist."

"Pre-pretending?" Akane's rage broke through.  "Get out, Kuonji.  Or I swear I'll kill you."

The taller girl was having none of it.  "Come and get me, CRIPPLE!"

A killing rage swept through Akane.  She threw herself at the taller girl, screaming.  Years of carefully honed reflexes kicked in as she leaped to her feet... feet she no longer had.  Instead, she tumbled headfirst out of bed at the other girl's feet, the stumps of her severed legs waving uselessly in the air.

The sound of Akane crashing to the floor proved to be too much for Kasumi to take.  She threw off Nabiki and rushed up the hallway, stopping in shock at the sight of her poor, injured little sister sobbing in helpless rage at the intruder's feet.  

Kasumi elbowed Ukyo aside and dropped to her knees next to Akane, desperately seeking to comfort the distraught girl, but Akane was thrashing too hard for Kasumi to hold her.  "Get OUT Kuonji!  GET OUT!"  She screamed.  "I swear on Ranma's grave I'll kill you for this!"  Finally, she broke down, weeping helplessly

Ukyo swallowed, hoping that no one would notice the expression in her eyes.  "Yeah, sure you will.  Any time you want to try, you know where to find me."  She turned and stalked back out the way she came.  She didn't even glance at Nabiki on her way out.

 Nabiki just stood there in the hallway staring at the door for a long time after Ukyo had left, while her little sister finally cried the tears that she'd been unable to shed at the hospital, or the funeral.  

A passerby noticed the young woman weeping outside the Tendo's gate and shook her head as she went on her way.  How much tragedy could one family be expected to take?

*****

Akane's physical therapist handed a cup of tea to Kasumi as they waited for her younger sister to finish her exercises.  "Er, I can't help noticing that your sister has had a real change in attitude this week,"  he offered, even though he knew that calling Akane's shift from near catatonia to grim determination "a change in attitude" was a serious understatement.

Kasumi pursed her lips.  "We had a visitor on Monday."

The therapist waited, but Kasumi didn't seem eager to elaborate any further.  "Ah... was it a friend?" He prompted finally.

"I used to think so...but I'm not so sure any more.  She said some terrible things to Akane.  Called her a coward, and a cripple, and said that she wasn't worthy of her fiance's love or sacrifice.  Akane took it very badly, but then she got very angry."  Kasumi looked down at her tea.  "I never thought I'd actually be happy to see my hotheaded sister get angry."

The Doctor looked across the room to where Akane was working a weight machine hard enough to threaten its structural integrity.  "Hmmm...."

****

Kasumi swung her bag jauntily as the three Tendo sisters made their way home to the dojo, exhilarated by their latest victory.  It hadn't been easy getting to the neighborhood market district; curb cuts tend to be few and far between in a society that considers weakness dishonorable and disability shameful.  Still, Akane had managed it with the help of her sisters.  Once there, the neighborhood merchants had seemed genuinely happy to see her. And why not?  Most of them had known her all of her life.  Best of all, Akane was actually smiling a little!  Kasumi would have been thrilled if her sister had only looked a little less grim.

Akane nodded her head in satisfaction as she wheeled herself along.  Sure it had been hard, but what of her battles hadn't been.  She still didn't like many of the looks she was getting, but so what.  For the first time, she was beginning to realize that this was something she could live with.  Her musings were cut short by a familiar voice.

"So, Akane…  I see you finally came out of your little hidey-hole."

The short haired girl stopped pushing and let herself roll to a stop.  "What do you want, Ukyo?"

"Oh, nothing."  Sun glinted of Ukyo's battle spatula as she stepped out of the shadows to block Akane's path. "Just doing my morning shopping.  I'm kinda surprised you finally worked up the guts to come out of hiding.  It certainly took you long enough."

Akane gritted her teeth.  "Well, I figure it's still my neighborhood."  She smiled grimly at the chef.  "Who knows?  Some day I might even make it to the U-chan."

Ukyo matched Akane's predatory smile.  "Wouldn't do you much good, Sugar, I don't think you'd be able to make it inside."

"Maybe I should sue."

Ukyo snorted derisively.  "This ain't America, Akane.  In this country you don't get any special civil rights with your wheelchair." 

Akane fought her rising temper.  "Bet I could get in there anyway, if I really wanted to."  

Ukyo looked her up and down carefully.  "A real bet?  Or are you just mouthing off?"

Akane sneered back at her.  "What do you mean a real bet?"

"OK, Sugar, I'll make you a bet.  If you can get your sawed off little ass…"  Kasumi gasped, but Ukyo ignored her "…into one of my booths, I'll give you anything you want, on the house.  What do you say?"

"It's a deal, Kuonji.  Now get out of my way."

Ukyo stepped aside and let the three sisters pass.  Nabiki gave her a measuring look that she didn't seem to notice.  Kasumi was fuming as they headed up the street.  "The nerve of that girl, talking to you that way." 

Akane looked grim and determined.  "Don't worry, sis.  I'll show her.  You just wait." 

None of them looked back.  If they had, they might have noticed Ukyo leaning heavily against a lamppost, one hand pressed over her eyes.

*****

Akane paused to catch her breath.  Odd how a new perspective can change your view of life, she thought.  After all, six months ago, who would have guessed that Akane Tendo the world-class jock-chick and all-around tomboy would ever come to hate physical education class as much as she did now?  Though, to be truthful, Akane didn't hate PE out of some newfound distaste for exercise.  These days, Akane was, if anything, exercising more than ever in order to strengthen the arms that now had to serve double duty.  No, Akane hated PE because it served as a daily slap-in-the face reminder of what she had lost.  At least in her other classes everyone else had to sit down, too.  Each class became a one-hour block where she could at least pretend to be normal.  PE allowed her no such illusions, because she could no longer participate with the others.  Everyone else did physical education while she was stuck doing physical therapy, and she hated being singled out for her injuries.

In short, Akane hated PE because it was the only class that forced her to confront being crippled.

Akane shook her head and grimly returned her mind to the task at hand, which was humiliatingly simple:  walking.  She gritted her teeth and took a better grip on the parallel bars.  This new use for the school's gymnastic equipment was just another aspect of her humiliation, to her mind.  Once she'd been able to make this equipment sing, or at least groan, anyway.  Well, she'd show them.  She'd show them all - especially a certain kansai hick-bitch restaurateur.

Lift, twist, step.  Lift, twist, step.  In theory, it sounded so simple.  In reality, it was agonizing, as her shoulders, back, and hips were forced to do the work of missing ankles and knees.  Still, it wasn't complicated, and she was finally starting to get the rhythm as she inched along, shuffling the three-meter length of the bars twenty centimeters at a time.

Suddenly, one of the feet (she still couldn't quite think of them as 'hers') caught and she almost went down, barely catching herself by throwing her arm over the bar.  She imagined that this would probably be much easier with a pair of those high-tech electronic inertial knee joints coming out of America.  Unfortunately, her family could never afford something like that - those legs cost millions of Yen.  Akane had to make due with the much simpler prostheses she got from the government, even though the very thought of being dependent upon those sanctimonious welfare bureaucrats set her teeth on edge.

Akane heaved herself back up and tried again.  At least the government-issue legs had flexible Jaipur feet and suction sockets that eliminated the need for any harness above the waist.  Akane blew out her breath in frustration.    _Shit, listen to me.  'Jaipur feet',' inertial knees', 'suction socket'; I've become a goddamned expert in a subject I never wanted to know anything about._  At least she didn't have to wear those damned uncomfortable bloomers any more.  Even the sexist pig school administrators who insisted on that stupid PE uniform found all of the harness hardware and doll-pink plastic they exposed distasteful, so Akane got to wear sweatpants instead.  True, that was a very slim silver lining in a huge dark cloud, but at least it was something.  These days, Akane was willing to take anything she could get.

Akane missed another step and toppled forward, but this time she missed the bar with her elbow and barely caught herself before she hit the floor.  As she hung there panting, Akane wished, briefly and irrationally, that the Orochi's teeth had taken her legs off below the knees instead of mid-thigh.  Now that was pretty idiotic, when you thought about it.  As long as she was wishing, she might as well wish that the dragon hadn't bitten through her legs at all.  One wish was just as good as the other, for all the good wishing would do.  Hell, even if she ever did get a wish, she'd wish to have her friends restored to life before she'd even think of wishing to get her legs back.  As a matter of fact, if a kami showed up this very moment and told her that she could give up her arms to get Ranma back, she'd agree in an instant, and happily spend the rest of her life in a basket.  _Ranma_... Akane lowered her head, and allowed one hot tear to leak out.

"Giving up already, Akane?  I thought you were supposed to be tough."  The familiar, hated voice cut through her sorrow like a speedboat cutting across a lake, leaving rage in its wake.  Akane looked up, lips curling into a snarl.  Ukyo was standing at the other end of the bars, sneering as usual.  The parallel bars groaned in protest as Akane wrenched herself back upright, heedless of the way her shoulder muscles screamed from the abuse.  She dragged herself towards her hated enemy bent on vengeance, never even noticing that she was now covering 50 to 60 centimeters with each stride.  Finally, she reached the end of the bars and drew back her right fist, but her left arm wasn't able to support her anymore, and she found herself collapsing into Ukyo's arms instead, shaking with exhaustion, rage and humiliation.

"Not bad, sugar."  Ukyo purred condescendingly.  "But you're gonna have to do a lot better than that if you expect to win our little bet."  Despite her scathing tone, she carefully propped the gasping Akane up until Nabiki and her therapist could come to her rescue, and didn't let go until she was sure the disabled girl could stand on her own.  

Akane didn't even seem to notice; instead, she threw off Ukyo's hands as soon as she could. "I'll make you eat those words, Kuonji."  She gasped out between great, sobbing breaths.  "Just you wait."

Ukyo smiled nastily.  "Don't keep me waiting too long, hon." Nabiki glared at Ukyo as she helped Akane into her wheelchair, but the tall girl didn't seem to notice.  Ukyo stood by the parallel bars until she saw the others disappear into the locker room before she turned and sprinted for the bathroom.

*****

Akane aimed her racing chair down the street, hoping to shave another minute off her time.  Ironically, that was nearly five minutes faster then her best time running this same loop.  Runners can't build momentum and coast, after all.  Fortunately for her, the warren of narrow alleyways that made up the heart of the Nerima ward was almost empty of cars and entirely devoid of sidewalks.  Once she'd made it into the street proper, all she had to contend with was the bicycles, and she had little trouble keeping pace with them.  Her first few trips had earned her quite a few odd looks, but by now most passersby found her presence unremarkable.  In fact, anyone who did find her presence objectionable was not likely to find a sympathetic ear in this neighborhood:  Disabled or not, Akane Tendo was a local girl, and outsiders could keep their goddamned opinions to themselves.

Unfortunately, not everyone was of the same mind.  Some people, particularly among the elderly, still hadn't accepted her.  Akane could still recall the horror she'd felt when old Mrs. Yamada, a neighbor who'd  known the Tendo girls from birth, had casually asked her why she hadn't killed herself to eliminate the burden she placed on her family.  Kasumi had been beside herself from the cruel thoughtlessness of the remark, and none of them had spoken with Mrs. Yamada since.  None of them had ever dreamed that she'd felt that way, but surely she wasn't the only one who held such sentiments:  She was just the only one clueless enough to express herself openly.  Maybe in the long run, though, it had actually been a good thing, because it completely obliterated any thoughts Akane may have had of actually doing such a thing.  There was just no way she'd ever give the old harridan the pleasure.

 Akane grimaced.  _You just never knew about some people_.  That was one thing about acquiring a disability – it really showed you who your true friends were. Take this very expensive wheelchair for example.  Nabiki wouldn't say where it came from, but Akane suspected there was Kuno money behind it.  Kuno himself was uncharacteristically silent about it too, for once forgoing his habitual boasting about his nobility – perhaps because his first truly noble act spoke for itself.  As a matter of fact, the 'Blue Thunder' was actually treating her with respectful formality these days, and who would have expected that?  Of course the fact that the obsessive kendoist had finally dropped his suit for her hand said ugly things about her future romantic prospects, but Akane would rather be the object of his respect than his obsession any day.

As for her other friends, again, the result wasn't what she would have predicted.  _Shampoo can barely disguise the terror in her eyes every time she looks at me._  Though, truth be told, she didn't fear Akane herself so much as she feared the example of human fragility that Akane represented.  Akane was a living reminder that even the best martial artists could be overmatched, destroyed…dismembered.  Shampoo couldn't look at her without seeing her own worst nightmares made flesh.  Yuka, on the other hand, was afraid of herself; so terrified that she'd say the wrong thing that she locked up rigid every time Akane so much as came near her.  Most of her other classmates seemed to suffer from something similar to different degrees.  In fact, of all her friends, only Sayuri seemed to be unaffected by Akane's disabilities:  Unfortunately, her overprotective mother had forbidden her from associating with Akane outside of school.  _Damn it, it's not like traumatic amputation is contagious._

Unfortunately, thoughts of her friends could only lead to one in particular:  Ukyo, though 'friend' probably wasn't an appropriate term for her anymore.   Even though she'd once been the friendliest of Ranma's various fiancées their relationship had been steadily deteriorating lately.  The tall chef was still obsessively persecuting Akane over Ranma's death.  Though obsessive was perhaps the best description for the chef, considering how she'd doggedly pursued Ranma for over a decade seeking first vengeance, and then matrimony.   Ukyo seemed to take Akane's survival as a personal affront.  Forgiveness didn't seem likely in this life, or the next.  

Inevitably, thinking about Ukyo led Akane to the thoughts about the source of the girl's anger:  Ranma.  Akane's tears flowed generously, even though her arms didn't falter in their relentless rhythm.  It took losing Ranma to make Akane realize how much she'd come to care about him, and how much her stupid pride had cost her.  She hadn't realized what she'd had until she'd lost it.  And she hadn't just lost Ranma either, she'd lost Ryoga and Shinnosuke too; the three boys she'd cared about most gone in an instant.  It just wasn't fair.  Still, as much as Akane had come to despise Ukyo, she had to admit that the kansai girl was right about one thing:  She wasn't about to throw away their sacrifice now.  

*****

Ukyo took another swig from the antacid bottle, but it didn't seem to help any.

She grimaced as she placed the half empty bottle back on her desk.  Lately, she'd been drinking the stuff like soda, but it no longer served to extinguish the fire in her guts.  She shook her head.  She'd anticipated many of the problems she faced when she set out on this course, but permanent indigestion wasn't one of them.

Nor was the problem that glared back at her from the ledgers on her desk.  She'd expected business to drop off as her behavior alienated her classmates, but she never realized that it would drop off this much.  Obviously, there was a whisper campaign going on against Ucchan's.  Not only that, but recently her suppliers had started jacking their prices as well.  Ukyo didn't even have to think twice to know who was responsible - it had to be Nabiki.   Apparently, the ice queen really did care about her little sister.  Who would have thought?

Ukyo shook her head.  Her doom was written in the numbers.  She'd be bankrupt by the end of the month.  Everything she'd worked for would be gone.  She tried to tell herself that she didn't care, and nearly succeeded - but not quite.  It hurt to see her life's work go down the drain, wasted.

No, not wasted -- expended.  There was a difference.   For her life's work had always been predicated on sharing her future with Ranma.  Without Ranma, she had no future, and no more need for her life's work.  Viewed that way, her business and reputation became nothing more than ammunition, mere assets to be expended in this, her final campaign.

She pushed back from the desk and staggered off towards her bedroom, unconsciously rubbing her stomach.  Well, if this was her final campaign, then she had to wrap it up soon.  She had less than one month to do whatever she could to ensure that Ran-Chan's final sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

As she reached for the light switch, she suddenly understood the fatalism that allowed someone to pilot a kamikaze mission.  If you're going to die anyway, you might as well make your life count for something.  Suicide isn't a sacrifice if death is inevitable.  The Kamikaze pilots knew that they were going to be shot down.   Crashing the airplane into a ship merely ensured that their inevitable death wasn't wasted.

Well, Ukyo's mission wasn't death, it was life, and her death wasn't inevitable.  But just like those old kamikaze pilots, she was intent on completing her mission, whatever the cost.  She had no intention of committing suicide, but she didn't particularly care if she survived, either.

*****

Click scuff-scuff, Click scuff-scuff.

Akane made her way across the lower athletic field towards the school, her crutches and artificial feet making an easy rhythm.  Re-learning how to walk had been the toughest thing she'd ever done, but these days she was glad she'd stuck with it.  What it cost her in effort it more than made up for in improved mobility.  It was so nice not to be stuck a head below every conversation, too. 

She couldn't help smiling a little as she swung herself along, headed back from softball practice.  She'd been shocked when her old teammates asked their former star pitcher to become team manager and scorekeeper.   She'd been very reluctant at first, not wanting to be reminded that she could no longer play herself.  She'd imagined that the very thought of being permanently benched would be unbearable.  Still, she'd finally given in the gentle pressure from her teammates, and now she was glad she did.  

Not that she'd ever admit it, but the openly expressed doubts that a certain obnoxious okonomiyaki chef had raised about her ability to handle the job had influenced her decision as well.

Sure, she couldn't play any more, but it was nice to be part of the team again.  It didn't hurt that the Coach had come to rely on her as a strategist and a pitching coach.  Nice as it was, though, it was still quite a comedown for a girl who had once hammered many homers.  Hell, even Ranma had respected her skills, after she'd nailed him with that foul ball...

_Ranma... The steady rhythm of her crutches faltered.  It still hurt to think about Ranma, but at least the very thought of him no longer brought heartrending, paralyzing pain.  Over the months that pain had faded to a dull, persistent ache.  Sometime soon, Akane realized, she'd be able to move on with her life.  She just wasn't ready yet._

It wasn't being unfaithful, wasn't it?  Ranma had wanted her to live, after all.  Surely he hadn't died expecting her to spend the rest of her days in some perpetual half-life of mourning.  At least that's what her doctors kept telling her.  Maybe someday soon she'd believe it herself.

Akane's meditations came to an end as she reached the steep bank separating the lower and upper athletic fields.  Once she could have cleared it in one or two leaps.  Now she'd have to detour around, or make her slow and painful way up the stairs, one step at a time.  It was an ugly reminder that there were some aspects of her disability that she would probably never overcome.  She sagged a little and a heavy sigh escaped her.

"Quitting again, Akane?"  No taunts followed that opening gibe, but by this time none were necessary.  The mere sound of that familiar, hateful voice was enough.  Akane gritted her teeth and attacked the bank, growling all along.  Students all around the athletic field looked on in awe as the teenager threw herself into a task that her most optimistic therapist would have considered impossible.  

Akane didn't care if it was possible or not, so intent she was on reaching that mocking voice and silencing it.  Her crutches creaked dangerously, subjected to a much higher load than any reasonable engineer could ever have anticipated, but she ignored that, just as she ignored the slip that nearly resulted in a serious fall, ignored the complaints of her arms and shoulders, ignored everything except her determination to get to the brown-haired girl and make her suffer.  She surged over the top of the bank and threw herself at the taller girl, snarling...

Ukyo didn't even bother to raise her hands or even change expression.  She merely took one step backwards and allowed the smaller girl to sprawl at her feet.  Then she squatted down.  "Good work, Akane.  I knew you could do it - with a little motivation."

Akane lay gasping on the ground, exhausted from her climb.  "I'll make you pay for that, Kuonji!  Just you wait!"  She tried to lever herself up, and failed. 

Ukyo patted her shoulder condescendingly.  "Don't strain yourself on my account, sugar."  She stood up and turned to leave.

Akane growled and rolled over onto her back, the first step in the laborious process of regaining her feet.  "Come back here, Ukyo!  I'm not finished with you yet!"

The taller girl didn't even bother turning around.  "Sorry Akane, I've got to get home for the dinner rush.  If you want something, you know where to find me."

"Yeah."  Akane growled, knowing that Ukyo would be long gone well before she could get to her feet again.  That didn't stop her from trying, though.

*****

_Wonder __how bad business will be this Sunday. Ukyo thought as she unrolled her shop curtain.   Like Ukyo itself, it had seen better days, but Ukyo had no money to replace it with.  Not that there was any point in replacing it, since there wasn't enough money to make Monday's rent payment, either._

"Hey Ukyo!"

"Akane?"  Ukyo carefully wiped the grin off of her face before turning around.  She'd noticed something that she hadn't heard in Akane's voice in months--confidence.

"I've come to collect, Kuonji."

Ukyo looked down at the girl in the wheelchair.  "I don't see how.  You know you'll never be able to get into my place in that thing."

Akane threw back her head and laughed.  "I'm not here to collect on our bet.  I'm here to collect on my promise."

Ukyo looked honestly puzzled.  "Which promise was that?"

Akane gritted her teeth.  "My promise to make you pay, bitch."

Suddenly, Akane threw herself forward out of her wheelchair into a headfirst dive and roll.  Ukyo spent a brief instant wondering if the other girl had taken leave of her senses when she felt Akane's hand close in a vise-like grip around her left ankle.  Using her free hand and the stumps of her legs for leverage, Akane easily yanked the taller girl off of her feet.  As she fell backwards, Ukyo felt a brief flash of exhilaration followed by two horrible realizations:  First, Akane's arms had been as strong as a gorilla's before she'd spent six months pushing herself around in a wheelchair.  Second, once Ukyo was on the ground, all of her own speed and mobility advantages would be negated.  On the ground, Akane held all of the cards.  Unable to break her fall effectively, Ukyo slammed to the ground, landing flat on her back and hitting her head on the pavement.  She thrashed in a desperate attempt to get away, but she couldn't break Akane's iron grip.  Ukyo's world became very painful for a few minutes before it became very black.

*****

Ukyo's eventual return to consciousness was a decidedly mixed blessing.  

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck."  If anything, that was an understatement.  Akane had somehow managed to refrain from inflicting any permanent or crippling injuries, but that hadn't stopped her from giving the object of her hatred a thorough and professional working over.  The entire surface of Ukyo's body felt like one massive, continuous bruise.  Ukyo blinked a few times, trying to get her eyes to focus, before she looked over at her interrogator.  She was surprised to see Nabiki Tendo sitting there.  She didn't look particularly sympathetic, but then again, Nabiki never did.

"You'll probably be glad to know that the doctors were able to fix the detached retina without any problems."  Nabiki said in the sort of conversational tones that most people would use to comment on the weather.  

Ukyo raised her hand and found a bandage covering her right eye.  "Really?  I hadn't noticed."  Suddenly, the constant pain in her gut contracted in one massive, horrible cramp, and she turned away from Nabiki to vomit over the other side of the bed, into the bucket that had been placed there for the purpose.

Nabiki waited calmly for Ukyo to stop puking.  Growing up in a Dojo, she'd had enough experience with concussed people to know that nausea often accompanied their return to consciousness.  And in her opinion, the Kuonji girl deserved all the suffering she could get.  Had she bothered to look, though, she might have noticed that Ukyo's vomit was disturbingly red, stained with the bright crimson of arterial blood.

Ukyo's stomach stopped heaving, and rolled back over, blood from her split lips and loosened teeth smearing the lower half of her face.  Nabiki did not offer her a tissue.  Ukyo lay back on the pillow and took a few deep breaths, trying to pull herself back together.  "Why are you here, Nabiki?"

"I want to know if you're going to file charges against my sister."

Ukyo's lips puffed out in bitter, silent laughter.  "Yeah, right.  Like I could possibly convince a court that a girl in wheelchair beat the hell out of a trained martial artist."

Nabiki hadn't lost her cool, hard expression.  "There were witnesses."

Ukyo closed her eyes. The aching in her gut was agonizing.  She wished she had her antacid bottle, even though the stuff didn't seem to be working anymore.  "You talk as if there were anyone on this planet who would testify on my behalf."  Suddenly, she felt dizzy, cold, and very tired.  Her voice dropped to a mumbling whisper.  "I knew this would be hard, but I never dreamed that it would cost me everything."  

Nabiki didn't know what to make of that statement.  "What did you say?"

Ukyo ignored her.  "At least I can rest now..." she murmured as the room seemed to fade out around her. As she lost consciousness her last thoughts were a profound wish that someone would come and turn off that damned alarm...

*****

Nabiki drifted back down the hallway in a daze, barely noticing the doctors and nurses running in the opposite direction.  The righteous anger at her former friend that had been driving her was gone, replaced by a horrible nagging doubt that she, of all people, had misread this situation badly.

"Nabiki?"  

Nabiki looked down into her sisters' expectant faces.  She'd finally wandered into the waiting area.  Kasumi blinked up at her, confused by the sudden change in her younger sister's demeanor.  "Nabiki?"  She repeated.  "Nabiki, what's wrong?"

It took a second for Nabiki to find her voice.  "I... I think Ukyo's gone."

"Figures."  Akane growled, fiddling with the fingerless biking gloves she wore to protect her palms and fidgeting in her wheelchair.  "Probably snuck out the back or something."

Nabiki shook her head and sagged onto the couch next to Kasumi.  "No Akane, she hasn't left the hospital.  She's _gone_.  I think her heart may have stopped while I was talking to her.  All the machines went crazy, all at once.  They're trying to resuscitate her, now."

That took everyone aback.  Much as they'd come to despise the hateful young woman, none of them had really wanted her to die.  Akane looked stricken.  "I killed her, didn't I?"

Kasumi considered Nabiki very carefully, surprised to see that she looked shaken to the core.  Nabiki hadn't earned her stoic reputation for nothing, after all.  "There's something else, isn't there."

Nabiki swallowed and looked up.  "Her last words were:  'I can rest now, Akane doesn't need me any more.'"

*****

"Excuse me; are you here for Miss Kuonji?"

Nabiki scrubbed her hands across her eyes and looked up at the man in green surgical garb. "Yes.  Is she going to make it?"

"I think so, but I can't promise anything.  It was touch and go for a while, but I think she'll pull through. Are you family or friends?"

Nabiki grimaced.  "Neither.  She doesn't have any family…or any friends for that matter."

"I see, I think."  The Doctor looked puzzled.  "Then why are you here?"

Akane spoke up quietly.  "I'm the one who beat her up."

The Doctor looked over at the young woman in the wheelchair and did a double take.  "You?"

Akane looked up at him crossly.  "I am a martial artist, I'll have you know."

The doctor shrugged.  "I believe you.  Miss Kuonji's injuries speak for themselves."  He looked around the three women.  "That doesn't explain why you're here."

Akane wet her lips.  "We were friends once, and we both loved the same boy.  He died in the same... um, incident that cost me my legs."  He'd probably assume it was a car accident, but Akane didn't care to explain about the dragon just now.  It didn't matter anyway.  Akane looked at the floor where her feet would have been, had she still had them.  "She's blamed me ever since."

The doctor winced in sympathy.  In this profession, you saw a lot of that sort of thing.

Akane looked up, a haunted look in her eyes.  "Did I do this to her?  Was it something I did?"

The doctor smiled his best reassuring smile.  "No, it wasn't.  I fact, you might even say that you saved her life."

Akane blinked in confusion.  "What do you mean?"

******

Ukyo lay in her hospital bed and stared at the ceiling tiles, mind blank, eyes unfocussed.  They'd told her that the bandage would be coming off of her eye tomorrow, but she wasn't thinking about that -- or anything else, for that matter.  It hurt too much to think. The irony of the situation didn't escape her, but she was too tired, too hurt, to care anymore.  _This must be how Akane felt._

They'd done emergency abdominal surgery, expecting to find her spleen ruptured from the beating.  Instead, they found a massive perforated ulcer.  No one died from ulcers, did they?  She'd said as much to her doctor, and he'd replied that a bleeding hole was a bleeding hole, regardless of whether it was on the inside or the outside.  First she'd almost died from the blood loss - they'd had to restart her heart twice on the operating table.  Then she'd needed massive antibiotic therapy and multiple transfusions to combat the raging case of peritonitis that almost claimed her afterwards.  Perhaps the biggest irony of all was she wouldn't have stood a snowball's chance if she hadn't been in the hospital already.  Akane had actually saved her life by beating her into unconsciousness.  He'd told her, in all honesty, that she was very lucky to be alive. 

Lucky.  Hell, she'd have been luckier if she'd died.  No one had come to visit her, and no one would.  She'd lost everything.  She had no family, no friends, no honor, and no future.  Her restaurant and all of her personal possessions would be auctioned to cover her medical bills, and there wasn't anything she could do about it. She didn't even own the clothes on her back.  Her whole life was gone, expended in her quest to help a girl who hated her.

Gradually, she became aware that someone was calling her nickname, softly, as if from a great distance.  "Ran-Chan?"  Her one working eye gradually focused on a figure sitting beside her bed.  It wasn't Ran-Chan.

******

"Ucchan?"  Nabiki reached over and took Ukyo's hand, squeezing gently as the injured girl slowly returned from her state of near catatonia.  The lost, unfocussed look on the young chef's face reminded her uncomfortably of her own sister's expression barely six months earlier.  She still didn't like this girl much.  Entirely too much ugliness had passed between them to be immediately forgiven.  Still, she had to try to reach her, because if she didn't, no one else would.  And only Ukyo could answer Nabiki's nagging questions.

"Ran-chan?"  Ukyo muttered, her uninjured eye focusing at last.  Then she blinked once, slowly.  "What are you doing here, Nabiki?"

Nabiki felt a horrible sense of deja-vu.  Ukyo had said almost the exact same thing the last time.   "I have to ask you something, Ukyo."

Ukyo closed her eyes.  "I told you that I wasn't going to file any charges, Nabiki.  Now please go away."

"Ukyo, what did you mean when you said Akane didn't need you any more?"

Ukyo jerked like she'd been slapped.  "Did I say that?  I must have been delirious or something."

Nabiki growled and leaned closer.  "Don't you dare try to deny it, Kuonji.  You said it, and I heard it.  I have to know.  Now give."

Ukyo looked into Nabiki's strained face.  She'd sworn that she'd take this secret to her grave, but the sudden urge to tell somebody, anybody, was just too strong.  "Swear to me on your honor that you will never, ever tell Akane about this."

Nabiki leaned back.  "Who are you to speak of honor?"

Ukyo blew out her breath.  "Nabiki, I know more about honor than you ever will.  I have been dishonored, and Ranma's death means my honor can never be redeemed.  Now swear."

Nabiki looked like she would have rather chewed rocks.  "I swear."

Ukyo sagged back onto her pillow and looked back at the ceiling.  "When Ran-Chan died, I realized that my honor could never be redeemed. My life was over.  But his last job wasn't finished yet.   So I swore on his grave that I would not allow his sacrifice to be in vain."

Nabiki looked puzzled.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ukyo looked back at Nabiki.  "He gave his life for Akane's, and you were going to stand back and let her throw that life away."

Nabiki's face colored.  "How dare you even suggest that!"

Suddenly, Ukyo was angry too.  "Damn you, do you think I was just going to stand by and let her die?  Somebody had to give her the will to live."

Nabiki swallowed.  "That's what I thought you were doing the first time.  But you didn't stop.  You kept hounding her."

Ukyo lay back and stared at the ceiling again, her anger spent.  "I just couldn't bear to watch you and Kasumi baby Akane until she turned into a helpless cripple."

Nabiki felt like she'd been kicked in the gut.  "But she's my baby sister.  What the hell else was I supposed to do?"

Ukyo felt herself slipping back into the distance.  "I don't know. You love her; you wanted to protect her.  But Akane is a warrior.  She needed something to fight, a focus for her spirit.  I figured I could give her that.  If you couldn't convince her to fight for herself, then maybe I could convince her to fight against me. What did I have left to lose?  No one would miss a dishonored Okonomiyaki vendor."  She took a deep breath.  "Besides, it gave me something to live for, too."

Nabiki felt sick.  She'd expected something like this.  Still, it hurt to hear it.  "I hope you didn't expect us to thank you for this."

Ukyo's voice had sunk back to a monotone.  "No, I expected you to hate me."  She started losing herself in the random patterns of dots on the ceiling again.  "Anyway, it's over now.  I'm all done." 

Nabiki had the uncomfortable feeling that Ukyo wasn't just referring to her vendetta against Akane.  Ukyo was slipping away again.  She cudgeled her brain desperately, trying to come up with something, anything, to keep the young woman talking.  "Ukyo...why?"

"Who must do the difficult thing?  One who can."  Ukyo quoted softly.  "I just never expected it to hurt this much..."  Her voice trailed off and her eyes unfocussed.

"That's not what I meant, Ukyo.  Why don't you want me to tell Akane?"

The response was little more than a sigh.  "She needs her anger to keep her going.  Better to be an honorable enemy than a dishonorable friend."

Nabiki swallowed.  "Ucchan, don't go.  We won't hate you, I promise.  Just come back to us, please?"

There was no response.

"Damn it Ukyo, you're doing the exact same thing Akane was!  You're throwing your life away too!  Don't you understand that?  Ukyo?"

*****

Ukyo drifted back into nothingness.  Nabiki was droning something that she paid no attention to.  It was so nice just to let her mind shut down and not think any more.   The hand that grabbed her chin and wrenched her head to the right came as an utter surprise.  Akane was there in her wheelchair, sitting in the blind spot caused by her bandaged eye.  Apparently, she'd been there the entire time.

"KUONJI, you coward!  Don't you dare go catatonic on me!  I've still got a bet to settle with you!"  Akane looked gloriously furious.

"Akane?"  Ukyo responded, shocked.  "But...But..."

Akane cut her off.  "Damn you, Ukyo, Ranma would spin in his grave if I let you die now.  Don't you dare let go without a fight!  I thought you were tough!"

Ukyo's soul of ice shattered at last, and she finally gave in to the mourning that she'd denied herself for almost a year.  "Oh Gods, Akane.  It hurts so bad.  When will the hurting go away?  I just want the hurting to go away...please..."

Nabiki stood up and walked away.  She paused at the door and looked back to where the two weeping girls, one damaged in body, the other damaged in soul, comforted each other.  They were still mourning, still hurting.  But they would heal.  They would live. 

******

Author's Note:

This is my version of the semi-traditional "Saint Ukyo" story.  Even die-hard Ukyo fans have to admit the girl tends to be a wee bit obsessive about things.  So I got to wondering:  Supposing she lost Ranma – what would she obsess about next? 


End file.
